Team Work
by Aletta-Feather
Summary: Charles and Erik meet in a US where being a mutant is a one-way ticket to death row. (Modern AU) As an assistant DA and a cop they sometimes encounter injustices. Will they team up and fix the problems inside or outside the system? Or will they tear each other apart by taking different directions in their quest for a safer country?
1. Chapter 1

**Team Work**

Charles and Erik meet in a US where being a mutant is a one-way ticket to death row. (Modern AU) As an assistant DA and a cop they sometimes encounter injustices. Will they team up and fix the problems inside or outside the system? Or will they tear each other apart by taking different directions in their quest for a safer country?

* * *

Unpunished

Charles sighed deeply. Another one of the hook. As assistant-DA he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't. He could sense that someone else in the room shared his frustration and disappointment. Charles harbored a secret: he could read minds. The thoughts he could eavesdrop, ranged from : _If only I hadn't had so much bacon for breakfast, now I'll be sick_ to _If only I hadn't killed her, now I might be caught_ and anything in between. Needless to say, he often noticed that the system couldn't catch all criminals and it disturbed him all the more when he knew someone would roam the streets again. Others might claim innocent until proven guilty to ease their minds, but Charles actually knew….

Charles did have another secret: he was gay. However that was peanuts in comparison to being a mutant. Whereas the first was sometimes frowned upon, the latter was a downright disaster. The government feared mutants and that fear had turned to hatred. The old Don't Ask, Don't Tell applied to mutants all over the country. Charles was lucky that his ability, or nature—the scientific community as well as the politicians were still arguing about that—was invisible and could therefore easily be hidden. Others were not so fortunate. Being a mutant could get someone the death penalty. The opinions in the public sphere differed from death to all mutants, to death to the violent ones, or to the ones who used their skills. There were mutants who found it impossible to hide, because of fur, or wings, or strange reptile tongues. These were also the ones who were persecuted the most. All the others had gone deep underground.

In his whole life, Charles had only met and befriended one other mutant. When he was a young boy, he had met a blue girl in the kitchen late at night. She had looked like his mother, but wasn't actually his mother: he could tell. She had lived in his house for a while, as she could morph into anyone and thereby hide in plain sight, usually impersonating one of their many servants. A small slip-up had revealed her true nature. Charles' parents had tried to catch her to hand her over to the authorities, but she had morphed into their driver and had stolen one of their cars, forever gone…

He still missed her, Raven Darkholme; she had been his only friend for a very long time and the only mutant he had ever met. At least as far as he knew… He had occasionally used his skills to track other mutants down, but as there weren't that many, he had stopped looking in that manner. Charles still hoped for a friendship like that again. He let out another sigh.

Erik was seated in the same courtroom. A few hours before, he had taken the stand giving evidence. It mattered not. The perp could run free again, breathe the fresh air. Erik hated when this happened. He liked being a cop—a position which had been hard to obtain in the first place considering that his mother was a mutant and had been executed— it suited his skills and his temper. Erik Leonard, formerly known as Magnus Lehnsherr, had changed his name and background to get this career as children conceived by mutants were not allowed to serve in the police force and military. Nor could they run for public office. Erik had to hide his powers, but as an insider could, on occasion, release fellow mutants from custody when no-one was looking. Evidence would sometimes go missing as well. Erik didn't think this was a betrayal of his position; he was helping the ones where his true allegiance lay. He took pride in being a mutant and secretly looked down on others. It helped that he was a loner; the solitude of secrecy did not bother him much.

Charles casually swept the minds of all who were present as he was collecting his files and putting them into his briefcase. He was curious as to whom felt the same as he did. A quick peek told him that it was the police officer who had taken the stand. The athletic one with the strong jaw line. Charles grinned inwardly; thankfully the cop couldn't see inside his mind (hopefully anyway) when he first laid eyes on him. He wondered if he should make a move… Perhaps they could have a chat over a beer or coffee and lament their useless jobs?

He decided to take a chance. "Too bad the case fell through, don't you think?" he asked.

"Hardly my fault," the man grumbled, looking resentful but quite nice in that freshly pressed uniform.

So much for good first impressions… "I was only sitting in on this one, but I don't see any issues on our side.." The man's brow darkened as he seemed to take offense at that. Charles quickly added: "Sometimes the jury just makes bad decisions."

"Can't disagree with that." Erik replied curtly. Juries, don't remind me, he thought… Charles could see glimpses of a young boy seated in a courtroom similar to this one, watching in agony as the jury returned with a verdict.

"Would you like to … ehm…" Charles coughed, "get a drink? We could bitch about our justice system.." he offered as his cheeks colored. The man—Erik was his name, Charles suddenly remembered—raised his eyebrows in quiet amusement. Was he asking him out? Really? Erik felt a new respect for this little pale assistant DA.

"Bitch?" he asked with a wide grin.

Charles' cheeks reddened even more. "Poor choice of words, I know…"

"I'd love to," Erik replied, "_bitch_ about it…"

* * *

They went to a nice and cozy coffee shop. The room was poorly lit but that suited Charles fine. Perhaps those damn cheeks wouldn't be as visible… Charles had dated cops before, but none of them had had such a tough exterior as Erik, nor had they radiated these dangerous yet very pleasant vibes… Dating was always tricky: work was very demanding and he had to keep his secret which was hard when growing closer to someone. He'd heard many mutant phobic statement from former lovers and it was generally a deal breaker, especially in the long run. Of course, he would make up some other reason as he couldn't tell outright that that was the problem. He'd also slipped up on various occasions with responding to someone's—hidden and often less pleasant—thoughts. It startled them and one or two times they'd been dangerously close to discovering the truth about him. Charles shook his head, as a gesture to push these negative thoughts away; he should enjoy the present…

Erik peered at him over his coffee. Strong and black, one sugar. Charles seemed quite preoccupied. He bowed towards him. "Still thinking about the one that got away?" For a second, Charles was horrified. Did Erik hear his thoughts about his lovers? "The perp…" Erik clarified with piercing eyes. Charles sighed in relief.

"Yes, yes, it always bothers me. Especially when you have a gut feeling that they were guilty…"

"He was guilty all right… Makes you wonder if there is something else one could do…" Erik hinted.

"I'm sorry? I don't know what you mean?" Charles' asked with a high-pitched voice. "You're not seriously implying… You're a cop for heaven's sake!"

"No need to get upset about it… I was only saying…" Erik didn't look away in embarrassment as his words may have indicated. Instead he was staring straight into his eyes, thinking about various ways they could handle this particular fellow.

"Vigilante justice is never good. It's intolerable!" Charles didn't sound as indignant as he wanted to, instead it sounded rather weak and lame as if he was reciting a lesson without his heart in it.

"You don't really believe that though…" Erik challenged him. "You know full well that some deeds go unpunished and you would cheer whoever took care of it outside of the law…" Charles made various protesting noises, but Erik continued: "Of course, you're too polite to admit it. Too well-bred." At this Charles frowned.. was Erik insulting him? "Too careful. Too concerned about others, unwilling to risk your reputation…"

"Will you stop it!" Charles almost shouted. Erik smirked. He sure had gotten the man riled up…

"You're the most irresponsible cop I have ever met. Thinking about such things in such horrible detail." Charles covered his mouth with his hand in shock.

Erik's eyes narrowed. "I didn't mention any details… I was only talking generally, as many cops do, when no-one is listening…"

"I, I have a vivid imagination…" Charles stuttered.

"Apparently…" Erik was still somewhat suspicious. A strange man, this Charles, and so contradictory.. Angry at the system but so unwilling to do something about it. Erik was of the opinion that one should live by one's words. He generally fixed whatever problems he encountered.


	2. Chapter 2

Rain check

Since their coffee date had more or less ended in a heated argument and much awkwardness, Charles didn. It was Saturday morning and Charles was drinking his first cup of coffee whilst reading the newspaper. A horrendous picture made him splash his coffee all over the newspaper. The guy, the one who was released Quite dead..

Charles swallowed hard. That was one of the images he had seen in Erik's mind! Amongst various others… He quickly read the article. He was found late yesterday evening—but still in time for the midnight deadline it seemed—the man was known for several alleged murders yet had been released due to lack of solid evidence, all true so far… It was deemed to be some sort of revenge by a family member or perhaps one of his criminal 'friends.' The police wasn't too keen on finding out who did him in, the paper claimed, as they had quite enough on their plate. One Erik Leonard had stated that liquidations in criminal circles wasn't a police priority. The newspaper article concluded with a discussion on the validity of that argument: justice for all _vs._ who cares what happens to criminals anyway?

As he took a closer look at the picture, he realized he was shaking. Surely he couldn't really think that Erik? The man was a cop! Perhaps a slightly violent, or frustrated one, but really? Charles tried to keep the nagging voice silent: the one that said that Erik had definitely considered impaling the man. Everyone had murderous thoughts sometimes, that didn't mean they were going to act on them! Even he himself had relished the thought of… And yet, Charles had trouble shaking the eerie feeling that had come over him. Erik seemed to feel pretty intensely about things, despite his cool exterior and mocking indifferent voice…

* * *

Erik felt good. Really good. As always, when he had taken justice in to his own, bare, hands. His fellow officers had not noticed the pattern in his behavior: he would whistle cheerful songs whenever a criminal had been taken care of. Or whenever a mutant had escaped their cells. The latter was all the more reason, of course, to fear mutants and ascribe supernatural powers to them. Perhaps they could walk through walls!

One little thing made Erik a little unsatisfied. The interesting assistant DA hadn't called. He thought they had hit it off, despite a minor disagreement, but he liked things heated anyway… He was a little disappointed at Charles. Perhaps he wasn't such worth his time after all. If one little argument scared him away, then… well, other things might be even harder to swallow. Still, he wasn't one to give up so easily. On Tuesday, he would probably find him in courthouse when he had to testify again. This time in the case of a kidnapper who asked for diamonds as ransom, which naturally no-one could provide, only to slice the kids open and leave them to rot. Erik knew what would happen to him if he were to go scot-free…

* * *

Charles' own case had finished early and he decided to see what would happen to the kidnapper. Diamond Danny— a name given by the media, which sounded more like a glamorous poker player than a gruesome murderer—was sitting with a grin on his face listening to the jury's verdict. He got the death sentence but didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Instead he was proud that he had taken out all these mutant kids: he deserved a medal in his own opinion and loudly screamed that he should have one. Charles stiffened, he didn't know the case was about young mutants. As later turned out, it wasn't, but to hear the man demand a medal was disheartening to say the least. Even more disheartening were the many voices Charles could hear around him; the ones that said that actually killing mutant kids did warrant a medal. He hoped that Erik's voice, who was seated in the front, wasn't one of them, but he didn't want to check. He didn't have the heart to crush that hope just yet.

Erik had spotted him. That wasn't really meant to happen… Charles couldn't leave now; he had to wait and see what Erik would say. "Looks like this jury does know what they are here for!" Erik greeted him cheerfully. Charles could only agree with that. He briefly wondered if he should mention the impaled man, but thought the better of it. "You could look a little happier, you know… justice has been done and all that. And in the way you favor…"

"You're right, I am glad that he will get what he deserves… What a horrible man he is! To do that to children.."

"The world is a horrible place. Still… we should celebrate his incarceration and incineration. Same coffee shop?" Erik asked.

"How can you be so cavalier about all this?" Charles blurted out.

"How can you not? Surely you have seen a thing or two by now, with your job…? I thought you'd have thicker skin…"

Charles didn't say that the voices calling for the death of young mutants was what had upset him the most. The fact that he always had to be so guarded in his responses and interactions was really getting to him. If he'd hook up with this Erik, it would only be a matter of time before the fierce anti-mutant sentiments would, yet again, kill whatever connection was present….


	3. Chapter 3

The Morning After

Erik thought that Charles was prone to gloominess. He seriously needed cheering up. Erik was careful not to end up in another argument again. They talked about their hobbies, past lovers, but only very briefly, and what places they would like to visit. As it turned out they had a similar taste of adventure.. seeing the pyramids, going on a safari, or dog sledding on ice. The coffee was good, the company improved with time—Charles became cheerful again—and the blush on his cheeks was very adorable, although Erik was pretty sure that would be quite unmentionable...

He wondered if Charles would be open to a nightcap at his place or if it was just a little too soon. He was about to speak up when Charles mentioned that he should be going now. Busy day tomorrow. Erik couldn't help his face from falling just a little, but soon had all his features under control again.

"We should do this again sometime…" Charles said as he picked up his briefcase.

"Yes, definitely. Good idea."

"Keep the streets safe." Charles added with a smile.

"I will, as long as you make sure they get convicted…" Erik answered with his signature grin.

As Charles walked out of the coffee shop, he could sense Erik's disappointment at his departure. It made him smile. So he was interested…

* * *

Diamond Danny had managed to give a final interview before he would receive the ultimate punishment. He explained his hatred for mutant kids by relating a story from his childhood. He had once seen a diamond lady who killed as easily as others would breathe. She even had the power to read minds. He had only escaped because he was a kid and she needed witnesses to tell the tale. His asking for diamond as ransom was a nod to his experiences.

The interview had the effect he had hoped for. He could perhaps receive a retrial. Mutants were once more on the agenda; their threat overstated. Perhaps killing them as children was the best method… Both Charles and Erik were appalled at the thought, though neither of them knew the other's opinion on this volatile issue.

At work, both of them, were subjected to horrendous statements on the matter. That the age of the death penalty should be lowered for mutants was one of the 'friendlier' ideas. Various methods of dissection were discussed, with the subjects alive, of course. They couldn't feel pain anyway, right?

* * *

"Let's please not discuss mutants." Charles greeted Erik at the bar they'd decided on the previous day when they'd met each other in court again; they both desperately needed something stronger than coffee. Charles made sure his voice sounded more exasperated and bored than hurt over the matter. "I've had more than enough of the subject for weeks to come…"

"Me too." Erik agreed. He was grateful for that at least. To have one evening where he would not be forced to think about the issue. Imagine all the horrors wished for them, even for the very young.

"Here's to mutiny!" Charles joked.

Erik grinned: "I'll drink to that."

A few hours later, Charles did go home with Erik. He lived in a small and barely furnished apartment. Nothing like Charles' own cluttered and antique-filled townhouse. Only the bare minimum was provided for, in the kitchen, bathroom, everywhere. "I like to travel light," Erik answered to his unasked question. Charles didn't want to think about the why's behind that statement…

Erik liked to take the lead and Charles didn't mind following. His body was covered in sore love bites the next morning but he'd had a night to remember. For a long time to come, those early memories would cloud his judgment.

"You are nothing like I imagined," Erik said to him the next morning whilst having breakfast.

Charles blushed his signature blush and shifted uncomfortably in his seat: "In a good way or a bad way?"

"Not telling…" Erik teased him. His next remark, however, didn't leave much doubt. "I wonder what your place looks like…since mine seemed to unsettle you…"

"Very different. Very, very different. It's totally cluttered, basically. Sometimes I have to dig deep to get what in need, my office is the worst. Although the kitchen is a pretty good second…."

"So you're very homely…" Erik grinned. "Next you'll be telling me you like to cook!"

"Ehm…" Charles mumbled.

"You do, don't you!" Erik laughed out loud. "You are quite something…" He stared at the man across the table. Charles was so different from his usual hook-ups. He seemed soft and vulnerable yet his job indicated that he couldn't be naïve or gullible.

"I guess it comes from spending most of my childhood in the kitchen, watching our cook make the most delicious pies and meals."

"You had a cook growing up?" Erik asked astonished. "Wow, who exactly are you Charles Xavier?"

"Nothing special, I assure you. My parents are rich. They didn't like me and I don't like them much either. The word would be indifferent, I suppose. The cook was friendlier than my parents ever were.."

"At least you had any… My mom died when I was young. I grew up imprisoned in group homes as no-one wanted to foster me…" Erik felt like he'd opened up too much and busied himself with clearing the table.

"Still, that's all in the past," he continued. "I'm quite content with my life the way it is now. My freedom is very dear to me, and my job generally satisfying…"

"To freedom then." Charles said, raising his mug of milk in a toast.

"To freedom," Erik grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

Concealment

A few weeks later and they were almost a couple. Almost, because Charles kept his distance. Erik did the same, yet it irritated him that Charles did so too. Usually, lovers would let their guard down pretty soon, even if Erik remained mysterious and unreadable. He was quite sure that was part of his appeal anyway, but Charles' unwillingness to share, made him uneasy about their friendship.

"So," Erik began when they were leisurely enjoying the view of the lake—a long hiking trip had brought them at the edge of a cliff with a beautiful lake underneath—"it seems that we always end up at my place…"

Charles didn't reply. A sure signal that he was uncomfortable. Erik narrowed his eyes. His past had learned him to be vigilant and suspicious. "I'd almost think you have something to hide…" he added. "A rare collection of pets perhaps? Stray cats, poisonous snakes…or do you collect Barbie dolls or something else of extremely embarrassing nature?"

His joking did not help. Charles didn't laugh and Erik became angry. "I've let you into my life. I think it is time I see a part of yours! I'd like to demand it even… as a right."

Charles sighed. "You're right. You have earned a right, I suppose."

"You don't have to be with me… I think that it is more than overdue though, but if you just want to be friends with benefits—or fuck buddies—I'm okay with that." Erik's face cringed the tiniest bit as he spoke the words.

"No, no please. It's not that. It's just…" Charles inhaled the fresh air deeply and tried to be as honest as he could. "Whenever I grow closer to someone, it eventually goes wrong. I just don't want that to happen again. And it almost always starts whenever…. Whenever I open up my place." Not just my house, but also my heart, he thought to himself. His wealth caused people to ask him for money, for one thing, even blatantly so. Keeping his secret hidden was far more difficult the more time he spend with someone.

"So, you're afraid to commit. Ha!" Erik proclaimed. "That's funny. People are always accusing me of that!"

"I guess it seems less real when someone hasn't seen my house yet. More like a fantasy that won't or can't end, whereas someone in my house, in the flesh, is somehow the opposite…"

"Even so. It's always good to face your fears. Here's what we're going to do…."

* * *

"Here's what we're going to do…" Charles mumbled as he was putting the final touches to the dish. Erik had not wanted to take no for an answer and said that couldn't meet up anymore until he could see Charles' house. Charles had bristled and disagreed, but caved in at last. He didn't want to lose Erik; it had been so long since he'd had a good friend.

Apparently Erik's mom had been German and so Charles had looked into that cuisine. He wanted to surprise Erik with, perhaps, some flavors from his childhood. However, he was a little afraid that it would be a bittersweet surprise… The food itself was bittersweet as well: Sauerkraut with Bratwurst and some white Riesling to go with it.

The doorbell rang and Charles opened the door. "It is the right place! I wondered…." Erik stated whilst looking around, impressed and slightly intimidated.

"That's what they usually say," Charles chuckled. "I made you something special. I hope you like it though…"

"Can't say until I know, can I?"

"Through here," Charles led the way into the kitchen.

Erik was touched by his gesture and gave him an appreciative kiss.

"Where shall we eat?" he then asked, "here, or over there?" He pointed at a dining room, very classical and impersonal, but with a good view too.

"You take your pick. I don't mind either way," Charles replied as he tasted the food and decided to add more salt.

"The dining room it is. Although Sauerkraut is hardly the meal for it…" he laughed. "Hearty farmer's food in a very stately setting…"

"I don't use it often… Only when I have company, or on those rare occasions my parents visit.."

"Such a waste though… So much space… why not use it?"

Erik couldn't really understand Charles' reluctance. Charles should enjoy the good life he so obviously had.

* * *

After Charles had opened his house and his heart, their relationship soared. Charles was over the moon that he finally seemed to have been able to form a stable relationship. They'd meet several nights a week, whenever suited them best; they were surprisingly candid to each other, nor could they take their eyes of each other. Charles preferred Erik in uniform, Erik—who willingly obliged—liked Charles' fine suits. During the weekends, they would head out and explore the city or the countryside. All in all, life was good.

They never had discussions about mutants or their (lack of) rights. It was a subject they both avoided like the plague, afraid they'd realize they were not a good fit after all. In many ways, this non-disclosure suited them best; however, it could still cause a potential rift at any given moment. They danced around the subject, and as the weeks passed by, became increasingly aware of this. The elephant in the room grew larger….


	5. Chapter 5

Discomfort

The impossible had happened. Diamond Danny had gotten a retrial and a quick one at that. This time around, the anti-mutant sentiments of the jurors had caused him to be released! Released! Charles felt like giving up his job, throwing in the towel. How could he believe in justice after this! He wanted to shout his frustrations from the rooftop but had to maintain his professional demeanor.

At home, he did get the chance to vent his fury. Erik wasn't fazed by it. He had grown used to Charles' need and longing for justice, his displeasure at any sign of foul play within the system.

"When will he be released?" he asked casually.

"Tomorrow afternoon. He will hold a press conference, can you imagine?! The nerve of that man!" Charles was becoming hot and bothered again.

"Hey, hey, it will be fine. What goes around comes around." Erik looked into his angry eyes. Angry and hurt.

"I didn't take you for a believer in karma." Charles responded surprised.

"Oh, I'm not. I do believe evil will be punished, or should be anyway…"

"That's exactly it! It won't be!"

"Not by conventional means perhaps." Erik replied with a grin on his face.

"How.. What do you mean? Erik?!"

"I believe we've had this discussion before," Erik softly said as he enjoyed the sight of a uncomfortable Charles. "And it didn't end so well, last time, so perhaps we shouldn't have it…"

"I'm inclined to change my opinion after this…" Charles reluctantly admitted.

"Really?" Erik's eyes became a tint lighter and brighter—or so Charles imagined—"That's promising."

"How so?"

"Not telling…" Erik teased. "Soon, we won't have anything to fight about anymore, though, that might make for a dull relationship… We'd dive straight into a rut."

Now, it was Charles' turn to laugh. "I don't think we'll ever be dull!"

"You don't, do you? Good, that's what I like to hear… After all, a sad Charles makes for a, well, a…"

"For a what?" Charles asked as looked deep into Erik's eyes. Erik grasped his arms, just above the elbow, tightly, and moved his face close to his. Just before he violently kissed him— everything about Erik was intense in these moments—he mumbled: "for a frustrated Erik."

* * *

Danny had shone at the press conference, like a, like a—not a diamond, Charles thought—but he had sure been pleased. His arrogance at going from death row to freedom was impossible to bear. Erik had been there too, but as their relationship was a secret to be kept, they hadn't talked. Danny had gloated and one of his benefactors, the guy who'd had paid the extremely expensive lawyer, had heralded him like a hero. A Mr. Stryker. A well-known advocate for mutant extinction and rumored to be working on weapons against them. Charles would have happily seen him on death row.

* * *

Three days later, Erik came home late. Charles' had let himself into his apartment, as they had each other's keys. It was a little risky, for both of them, but they, each of them separately, kept their sensitive objects under lock and key. For Erik, these consisted of pictures of his mother, letters she had written him from prison, drawings he had made for her. For Charles, it were mostly books on telepathy and the morphing mutation; reminders of his childhood with Raven. The books were negative, of course, but packed with information nevertheless. It had made Charles wonder about their authors. It would have been either someone, a scientist perhaps, with great knowledge of mutants—Charles always shuddered when he considered the possibilities of how that knowledge might have been obtained—or, and this was the hopeful thought, a mutant with actual inside knowledge had written them but had taken pains to sound disapproving.

Charles had started diner, and had eaten it too, as it was at risk of burning. Erik didn't call, and when he arrived over three hours later, Charles was not amused. They had almost gotten into a fight. Almost, because a breaking news story on TV caught their attention. Diamond Danny had been found. Quite dead. Covered in diamonds, and apparently killed by them as well. His mouth and nostrils were stuffed with them and a cut to his throat appeared to have been caused by diamonds too. The reporter dwelled on the strangeness of the case and soon his childhood tale was referred to. Mr. Stryker was interviewed and vented his opinion once more. Annoyed Erik turned off the TV.

"I told you so.. didn't I? I assume many people wanted to see him gone, and now he is."

Charles went silent. This was the second time a prisoner was killed shortly after his release. He looked suspiciously at Erik and decided to enter his mind. He had to be sure…

"What are you doing? Charles…?!" Erik thought Charles' eyes looked strange… He felt the beginnings of a headache. "What are you staring at me like that for!"

"I'm not. I'm not staring. I was just… I was thinking about who… who would do such a thing."

Charles sighed in relief as he had seen that Erik wasn't responsible for the murder. He had simply forgotten they'd agreed to meet that evening and had been filing paperwork.

"Don't tell me you now pity the bastard… You are unbelievable, you know.."

"I don't, I don't! I was simply…"

"Simply what?" Erik asked, a hint of menace underneath his soft steely voice. "Admiring my new haircut? Falling into my dreamy eyes..?"

"Yes, yes," Charles stammered, but Erik wouldn't hear of it. He approached Charles, but not in his usual manner. Something harsh in his movements frightened Charles.

"I think you were thinking something quite different, Charles Xavier! Accusations, towards me perhaps?"

"No, no, of course not. Erik, don't be silly!" Charles tried to sound annoyed and firm but his hesitations didn't help.

"I think you have a confession to make. And I would sure like to hear it!" Erik's voice was loud and biting and Charles backed away slowly. Erik noticed it and moved in fast. Without even seeing them, he had cuffed Charles' hands around his back.

"Erik, what are you doing?! This isn't funny , Erik!"

Erik stood almost against him. His angry eyes penetrated Charles' skull. "Isn't it?" he inquired softly. "I think so…"

"Funny sense of humor you have," Charles replied, sounding casual but for his trembling limbs.

"Ooow, I thought you liked it…" Erik pretended to pout. He bended his head forward, until it was next to Charles' and whispered in his ear. "Your confession, please…" When Charles didn't reply, he pushed him against the wall, roughly. "I haven't got all night, you know…"

"Erik, I'd like you to stop this! It isn't funny."

"Just tell me what you thought. I'm so curious to hear it…" Sarcasm was dripping of his tongue.

"You're not going to let me go until I answer, aren't you?" Charles wriggled to get the hand cuffs off, but they were awfully tight.

Erik showed his teeth in his broad smile. "Exactly right! I knew you were smart!"

"Or else?" Charles raised his chin in defiance.

"Perhaps I do have all night, and longer…"

"Fine, fine, I want you to release these cuffs first."

"I think not… They are non-negotiable."

"I could make you!" Charles threatened.

Erik was unimpressed. He laughed. "I'd like to see you try…"

"Please?" Charles was the one pouting now, using his innocent eyes.

"You're using charm as your weapon? Very impressive! But the answer is still no! Just tell me, I won't be mad." The twinkle in his eye had returned and Charles knew he was telling the truth.

"Fine, I was worried, just for a moment there, that you'd, you know.."

"What?"

"Had taken care of him. Had killed him." Charles stared at the ground. Surely Erik should be mad at such an accusation. He sure as hell would be!

"I have got so much diamonds to dispose of, have I? I mean, if it had been ice cubes… or beer bottles…" He laughed hard at Charles. "You are a better suspect, a more believable one, money wise anyway…"

"I know it was foolish of me. Can you forgive me?" Charles hoped this would not be the end of yet another love affair.

"There's nothing to forgive. Don't be silly." Erik paused. "I do like you in cuffs though. We should use them more often…"


	6. Chapter 6

Impersonations

Charles was staring at the TV, startled. Something odd had happened. Mr. Stryker had been allowed to flaunt his opinions on all the news channels and talk shows. However, on one late night show, he had not been his usual self. Instead of condemning mutants and their agenda, he had pleaded for their rights. The host had continually tried to change his mind, but he wouldn't. The confrontations with his former(?) opinions were eloquently dismissed and twitter exploded in the confusion.

A few hours later, the matter was clarified. Mr. Stryker was found, bound hand and foot in his own garage. An imposter had appeared on the show. A mutant! Charles narrowed his eyes. He remembered a mutant with these particular abilities. Could it really be? That would be great!

He hurried to the computer and kept watching the footage over and over again. If only he could see a glimpse of the person underneath…. A patch of her blue skin, a flicker of yellow in her eyes… Erik asked what he was up to, re-watching it for the hundredth time.

Charles decided to be honest. He was searching for any indication of the mutant underneath. Could it somehow be determined? Was there anything visible that showed it was not actually Stryker on the show?

Erik was quite appalled by this. The last thing he needed was Charles becoming some conspiracy nutter who tried to trace mutants. "What makes you think you can spot something? If mutations were visible that would have been discovered already, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah," Charles waved off-handedly, "but still, it's so fascinating… Something should show…"

Erik sighed. "I'm going for a run. Don't wait up."

He closed the door with a bang. Not subtle, but he couldn't keep his rage inside. Why, oh why, did this subject always ruin everything?!

Charles was puzzled at Erik's strong response. Perhaps he was jealous that Charles wasn't absorbed in him for a change… He chuckled. He hadn't seen Erik jealous before…

* * *

During the following days, Charles was religiously devoted to the news. More and more politicians and other influential people, were saying positive things about mutants, only to fiercely deny it later. Charles kept hoping for a glimpse of Raven whereas Erik grew frustrated with Charles' new obsession.

"Will you turn that off for a moment! Please!" he shouted when Charles was glued to the TV once more.

"What is your problem?" Charles sneered as he used the mute button on the remote, still watching fervently.

"What is my problem?! What is your problem?! I thought we… didn't like that whole mutant discussion.. Didn't we agree on that?"

"Yes, but this is so fascinating and, and well, don't you think it is important?"

"Important, sure. But your becoming… Frankly, you're becoming obsessed, and it is … hmm, becoming scary…"

"Scary? Surely you're overreacting. I'm merely interested, that's all."

"Yes, but why? Why go from not wanting to have anything to do with the discussion to… to wanting to watch nothing else? It makes no sense…" Erik's eyes were pleading and more than a little worried so Charles finally turned the TV off.

He wondered how much of the truth he should reveal. It was not safe. Erik was a cop, for crying out loud, he could easily arrest him. He'd already cuffed him once…

A grain of truth should be enough… It would be the perfect way to test the waters. Yes, that's what he would do…

"I'm waiting…" Erik snapped his fingers impatiently.

"A long time ago… When I was a kid…" Charles began, "I once met this girl. She was my age, I think, and she, well, she was a mutant…"

"Really?" Erik gasped. "What happened? What did you do? Did you report her?"

"No, no, she… well…" Charles tried to think on his feet. "She sort of became my friend."

"Oh, oh." Erik didn't know how to respond. Surely this was good news, however, Charles hadn't finished his story yet, so the tried to make non-committal gestures and sounds.

"She had this amazing ability to, to morph into others. One day, she had left and I haven't seen her since, and I just wondered…" He didn't dare to use the word _hoped _as he'd already screwed up using the word _amazing_ to describe her.

"You were wondering if this mutant could be, in fact, her?" Erik still couldn't make out what Charles intentions were, though. He didn't sound horrified, but not particular positive either. More like…neutral.

"Yes, yes, it could be. It could be her. Although I have no idea how many of her kind of mutant exist and there are so many of these stories now, that it is almost impossible for one woman to have done so…"

"Perhaps not absolutely impossible though.." Erik stated. "How many of these occurrences have taken place; what five or ten in the last few days?"

"Eight. Eight, so I guess it could have been just one person. It might not even be… I mean, just like I said, we've got no idea how many of these particular mutants exist…"

"And, and what do you want to… I mean, what's your intention to.. do with this knowledge?" Erik whispered the question, afraid of the answer.

Charles replied just as carefully. "I guess I could inform the authorities, although having told you could already be considered as such. However, as I am not sure… not sure at all about the identity of the impersonator and she was… at one time, my friend…" His eyes pleaded for Erik to understand. If he could just understand this, than perhaps there was hope after all…

"You're right. There's really no need to inform anyone else, as you've just told me and I am an authority figure." Erik grinned in relief. "No need to bother the paper pushers…."

"My thoughts exactly." Charles was so glad to be out of that minefield.


End file.
